#nhasablog

           “Erik?” Snapped from his thoughts, snapped from the war, snapped from eternal prison marked on his skin; Erik was back in the present where he belonged, back to the world where eyes lit up instead of tearing up. “I thought I told you to try the breathing exercises.”

           “I thought I told you not to read my mind,” Erik replied, half way between and snap and a whimper, torn between loathing Charles’ mind reading and adoring the salvation his friend gave. “Thank you.”

           “Why do you keep going back there?” Charles rolled up beside him, a gentle hand on the shoulder, a small quiver of the muscles. Erik wasn’t used to touch, at least, not that kind of touch. He was used to the touch you would never speak of again, the touch which bruises left behind on the skin and on the mind, the touch that left scars and abrasions which would never heal, the touch which caused mind numbing pain and tears rushing down emaciated cheeks. Charles was teaching him another sort of touch, the one which represented love. This was the type of touch which sent warmth throughout the body, the embrace of a friend, the safety within one’s arms, the gentle caress of a cheek, the entwinement of fingers. This was the touch that healed, the touch which softened eyes and battled the darkness away, the touch that resonated throughout the body, the touch to cause a peace in the mind and in the world. This is all Erik ever wanted, ever needed in the world.

           “I can’t help it,” Erik admitted, no use in hiding everything today. He would normally fight it, the anger, the sorrow, the fear. Not today, no, he wanted to feel safe, secure, still. He wanted to feel loved and he didn’t want to fight for it, he wanted it to stream through, a dam finally giving way to the millions of pounds of pressure. Erik wanted relief, rejoice. “I see it when I close my eyes, the fire, the people, my mother. When I breathe, I smell the ash, the smoke. All I taste is the mold and the char. All I hear is the screams, the sobs. All I feel is the blood and the cold steel. I can’t get rid of it.”

           “I could help you clear your mind,” Hand moving downward, fingers gently pressed into a forearm, into the haunting numbers. Another flinch, unwanted, though unpreventable. Erik was trying to get used to the touches, the small notes of affection, the hints of love Charles shared with all, though it was near impossible to fix a broken man. “Only if you want me to.”

           “Not that way,” Erik didn’t like Charles in his mind. He trusted him, his best friend, but Charles was not the only person to ever get into his head, to manipulate his mind. He knew Charles wanted to help him, to save him, to provide him sanctuary, but Erik couldn’t allow it. No, the damage had been dealt and it was there to stay. “Maybe something else. Chess perhaps?”

           “If that is what you wish,” Charles flashed a small smile, hand falling to Erik’s thigh, a reassuring squeeze, a different kind of flinch. “Are you okay?”

           “Yes, I…” Erik didn’t quite understand what had happened, the electric shock resonating through his body, the urge to squirm, to laugh. Charles caught on much faster, knowing this yelp was not of pain. “I don’t know what happened.”

           “It seems to me that you are ticklish,” Charles beamed, quickly forgetting the game of chess to be played, having found another way to clear the mind. “You know what that is, don’t you?”

           “Yeah, I’ve seen the students do it before. Something about touching another person to provoke laughter.”

           “Good,” Charles leaned in as close as he could, reassuring, not menacing. “Would you like me to tickle you? It will help clear the mind, momentarily that is.”

           “I guess,” Erik stuttered, not knowing exactly what he was getting into. getting into. He knew tickling was a form of affection, a form of bonding. A way to make others laugh and to forget all that was going on in the world. He knew it wouldn’t heal him, no, nothing could take away the damage done to him. Tickling was only a temporary solution to a big problem, not just for him, but for everyone. It was able to scare away the darkness of the world for a short time, but never a cure for the endless disease. It would never be the way out, nothing can cure the depression and the hatred in the world, the insecurities and the shadows, but it was a good distraction for many.

           “Try to hold still, I can’t exactly pin you down,” Charles said, a hint of teasing, warm eyes as Erik sat as still as he could, arms draped across the arms of his chair. Charles scooted as close as he could, reading Erik’s face, reassuring himself before going in, his fingers ready to do their dirty work.

           “What is this?” Erik asked, his lips contorted into a large smile, a stream of low giggles erupting. Charles’ fingers danced along his friends' ribs, scratching across his belly, swirling into his navel, feeling the hysteric rise and fall of his chest, his laughter growing the farther up he ventured. “Shit!”

           “Good spot?” Charles laughed, all ten fingers skittering under Erik’s arms, nails scratching along the skin as he managed to slip under the hem of the shirt, his fingers tracing along the bare skin of his midriff before reaching the hollows. Erik nearly screamed when Charles decided to switch it up a bit, squeezing both hands into one armpit, all ten fingers scratching the small area, the skin growing more sensitive by the second. Erik tried his hardest not the jump out of his seat, knowing Charles couldn’t pursue nor did he want it to end.

           “Fuhuhuhuck,” Erik squealed, feet drumming the floor. Charles was completely enamored by the situation, soaking in the sound of his friend laughing, finally laughing. He couldn’t help but slip into his mind, feeling the same expressions of mirth and hysteria as Erik was, knowing exactly what his fingers were doing to Erik’s sensitive skin. Charles couldn’t help but laugh too, the ticklish shocks resonating through him as well.

           “Having fun?” Charles asked, almost as out of breath as Erik, only stopping to give himself a break as well. “Want to go for a round two?”

           “Yeah,” Erik nodded, a mild blush, knowing he was enjoying this more than he should be. He knew this wouldn’t fix him, tickling wouldn’t correct his past and cure the dark disease plaguing his mind, but it was a simple distraction. This was a distraction from the world, a moment of pure joy and bliss, a moment to forget and to have fun, to bond with his best friend. Erik knew this would become a regular thing, it had to be. He never wanted this to end, for the bliss to wash away. He wanted not only him to be happy forever, but for Charles as well. While he knew this was impossible, he could at least allow the moment to last a bit longer. “Let’s do a round two, but this time, I get to fight back.”